Strange
by Licorice Tears
Summary: Watch. See that manor over there on the hill? Some people say a great evil happened there, that inside are three people killed by nothing and no one.


A/N: Bunny attacked, and wouldn't let up, even though I was doing my homework. Feed Bunny reviews, and Bunny will play nice! Yum-yum, say Bunny. If there are any grammatical errors, tell me and I'll be grateful forever.

Disclaimer: What do you mean, disclaimer? I own the world! Mwa-ha-ha!

* * *

Watch, sir.

Look at the town, what is called now?

Hangten? Hang them? I do not remember. I am old now, sir, and I do not remember much. The doctor says I might have Alzheimers, since I don't seem to remember anything anymore. Almost like magic, it is. But I have not been able to remember things for a very long time.

Oh, dear. I apologize for rambling.

Yes?

Oh. Thank you, Mr. Potter. Hangleton.

Hmm?

Why, then, you must call me Arianna, Harry. Ms. makes me sound old. Though I am rather old. I do not remember, but the doctors say I must be one-hundred something.

No, I don't have any brothers. I was found at the village orphanage when I was a teenager, with amnesia. You are an orphan too? I am sorry. But yes, I am sure I have no brothers.

But on with the story.

In that town, the town now almost empty, almost gone, people whisper of some great tragedy that happened. You see the manor on top of the hill? It used to be called ...

Puzzle?

Riddle?

Jigsaw?

Oh, well. Puzzle Manor it is. People say there are bodies in that manor, three dead people killed by nothing and no one. No one ever goes in there, because it is rumored to be the home of demons. The bodies have yet to be retrieved. No family calls for them, though I have heard tale of a grandson.

But I am not telling that story. You asked of the graveyard.

Also in that town is a graveyard, very large, and very extravagant for such a small town. But a graveyard nonetheless.

It is said, by some people who visit here, that a very great evil was buried in that graveyard. Very strange tourists too, dressed in long, dark, dresses and cloaks and carrying thin wooden batons wherever they go. Stranger, yet, is the fact that they even visit that town. Hangleton, yes? Hangleton is a very boring town, not at all worth visiting. But strange is as strange does.

Sometimes the tourists go to the graveyard and cry, glaring at the stone through tears.

Sometimes, other tourists, more violent, come and bow down to the stone, almost as if worshipping it. Sometimes those tourists strike out and attack some of the villagers of Hangleton. The police were called, and tried to arrest them, but they disappeared.

Strange.

Strange.

I agree, Mr. Po- I apologize- Harry.

Whoever buried there must have been someone important. For who else could have caused such sorrow?

But often, all the tourists do is gape at the stone, as if refusing to believe it is there. Or perhaps refusing to believe whoever buried there is dead.

And sometimes, oddest of all, a group of children will come, with an adult, carrying paper and pen. And a stick, strangely enough. Perhaps the man buried there was the leader of some cult?

They will listen as the adult lectures at them, saying some things over and over again, with a tinge of fear and awe. Very odd words, I think. I wonder what language they speak. _Voldemort. Who lived. Death Eaters. Dumb door. Hoggy warts. Weasel._

Now that I think of it, they seem to mention a hairy potter very often. Coincidence, perhaps?

The children will laugh and play, chatering among themselves excitedly, but the adult will always stand still and watch the stone with the oddest, saddest, look on their face.

Almost like a field trip, it is. But who takes children on a field trip to a graveyard?

But all the tourists will spit on the grave when they leave. Even the laughing children. Strange.

Though, come to think of it, the more violent tourists don't. But they have stopped coming now. I think the red-eyed man stopped them from coming. He came and left with them once, and then they never came again. Now that I remember, I don't think the I remember him coming. Only leaving. Strange. But so many things about that graveyard are.

Would you like another story, Harry?

Harry? Where are you going?

Harry?

Hmm. Strange.

* * *

Strange. I started it intending to be something else, but Bunny ran away and made me do something else. Bad Bunny!

Feed Bunny with reviews?


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